


Five times Zuko lies about an injury and the one time he didn't

by trying_to_spell_both_our_names_at_once



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: 5+1 Things, Angst with a Happy Ending, Autistic Zuko (Avatar), Bisexual Zuko (Avatar), Canonical Child Abuse, Child Abuse, Fluff and Angst, Gaang (Avatar) as Family, Gen, Hurt Zuko (Avatar), Iroh (Avatar) is a Good Uncle, Minor Mai/Zuko, Ozai (Avatar) Being a Terrible Parent, Ozai (Avatar) is an Asshole, Protective Gaang, Self-Hatred, Somewhat, The Gaang Learns How Zuko Got The Scar (Avatar), Toph Beifong and Zuko are Siblings, Victim Blaming, Zuko (Avatar)-centric, Zuko is an Awkward Turtleduck, Zuko's Childhood (Avatar), Zuko's Scar (Avatar), but as an arranged marriage, they're just best friends in this fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:20:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25496713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trying_to_spell_both_our_names_at_once/pseuds/trying_to_spell_both_our_names_at_once
Summary: His father was within his right to hurt Zuko, but that didn’t mean that Zuko wanted to share that. His shame was his own, his inability to produce a simple flame, the burden he placed on his family, it was all his own to handle and process. Zuko selfishly didn’t want those same feelings to crawl to anyone else, he didn't want them to know about the pain he carried with him every day.“I fell when doing my forms,” Zuko says, plastering a smile over his face. It isn't the first time he lied, and it most definitely won't be the last....Exactly what the title says, the five times Zuko had to lie about an injury and the one time he felt safe enough to tell the truth.
Relationships: Iroh & Zuko (Avatar), Sokka & Zuko (Avatar), The Gaang & Zuko (Avatar), Toph Beifong & Zuko
Comments: 33
Kudos: 648
Collections: Other Avatar Fics





	1. The Father Walks Out of the Room and the Room is Almost Empty

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea where this fic is going but it stuck in my mind and it's not going anywhere anytime soon. Also, although it is never explicitly stated I highly headcanon Zuko as Autistic and it is evident in my writing, I myself am autistic but I do understand that my experience is not universal so please let me know if I do something wrong with my portrayal!!
> 
> Trigger warning for obvious child abuse throughout the story.

Zuko hated training. Since he had yet to produce a flame, he was forced to train in the same room as the guards, meaning the place was often alight with too many loud noises and yelling. The clash of blades and the sound of sparing guards set him on edge enough that his instructor would yell at him, which would only upset him further.

Zuko spent a long time monitoring the guards schedule, figuring out which times the training room would be empty or at least close to empty. He found the half an hour after lunch caused the training room to be empty most of the time, so that’s when he went. 

Zuko knew his fire wasn’t that good, Azula had just started her own fire bending training, and he had yet to produce a flame. He had sparked once or twice when he tried really hard, but never around anyone who could back his story up, and his father always grew mad whenever Zuko insisted it happened. 

You bend fire to protect yourself and those around you, and Father was upset because Zuko couldn’t bend. Zuko wanting his father to be proud of him. The obvious answer to that is learning how to sword fight. If Zuko can’t protect himself with fire, then he simply needed to find other ways to defend himself. 

And he loved the blades. He watched as some of the older guards practiced them, a complicated dance of two bodies, the clashing of metal, the glint of it in the candlelight. He had begged Lu Ten to teach him, and his cousin did until he had to leave again. After that Zuko practiced on his own. 

He had a teacher of course, his mother had sweet-talked his father into it, but Zuko found he preferred to do his training alone. There was less chance of someone yelling at him that way. Master Piandao wasn’t as cruel as some of his other teachers, but he was strict. 

So he came to the training room twice a day and pulled out his blades, running through the motions of his favorite form, twirling the blades and methodically moving through every set. Fire bending never made sense. His instructors lectured him about it day in and day out, his father beat the important into his mind every chance he got, but it just didn’t click for Zuko. It never did. 

The blades clicked. The moves made sense, like his body had always known what to do, like his swords were an extension of his body, doing exactly what Zuko wanted them to do before Zuko even thought about it. He was good at sword fighting. He could protect himself with it. 

His father was less impressed. His mother told him how good he was at it, Uncle and Lu Ten praised him every time they were around, and Azula mocked him for it but he saw her enviously watching him sometimes. But every time his father came around to watch, all Zuko could feel was the heavy look of disappointment, the sting of not meeting expectations Zuko didn’t even know about. 

Zuko grabbed his blades and walked to the middle of the room. It was his lucky day, there was no one else in the room with him, just him and his blades and no one to watch or judge. It was good, he worked best alone, when he didn’t have to worry about what would happen if he messed up. 

He moved through his katas, his swords an extension of his hands, moving swiftly through the air as he walked through the familiar moves. They were safe, secure. A pattern he knew, nothing unpredictable or unusual about it. 

“Prince Zuko,” A voice called out from behind him and Zuko froze slightly at his father's voice, but composed his face as he turned around. 

Sure enough, his father was standing in the doorway, his face unreadable. Zuko’s hands tightened against his dao swords. 

“Sir,” Zuko said after a moment of silence. “I didn’t know you were coming to watch me practice.” 

“I’m not,” His father said, his voice was flat and monotone, no emotion to be found in it. Zuko squeezed his swords harder, he wasn’t sure what was going on. Was his dad mad? Should he be apologizing for something? Or was his dad just there to talk to him? He settled on silence, sometimes that worked. 

His father didn’t say anything for a long time, simply walking around the room, inspecting the area. Zuko stood still, unsure if he should resume training or not. Should he be talking? God, he hated moments like this when he was so unsure of what his father wanted. 

“Have you mastered a flame yet?” His father asked, and Zuko cringed away before he could stop himself, his hands tensing and relaxing on his blades. 

“I don’t think so sir,” He said carefully, his heart pounding. He knew this dance, had been through it once every couple of months, but this was the first time they were alone when it happened. Normally his mother or Azula would be there, maybe even a teacher or his Uncle. 

“Show me,” His father demanded. “Your sister has already summoned a flame and is progressing and she is years your junior. Something as simple as summoning a simple flame should be achievable.” 

There was a challenge in father's voice, a danger lurking in it, but Zuko didn’t know what to do in the face of that, so he put down his swords, walking towards the center of the room before falling back into the starting position of a kata. 

He knew the moves, had been through them thousands of times. But when he extended his fist, his breathing somewhat even and his feet planted firmly, no fire flew from his fist. He kept moving, but the disappointment had already set in, his heart pounding as he tried again, focusing on his own body heat and slowing his breath just like his instructors told him to. 

No fire flew from his fist or his feet. Not even the smallest of sparks. 

“That’s enough,” His father said, his words as sharp as Zuko’s blades. “You look pathetic enough as it is.” 

Zuko stood back up, his head lowered as his fingers frantically tapping into his arm, the action somewhat helping to calm the surge of panic at the disappointment in his father’s voice. 

“Stop that useless fidgeting and look at me,” His father snapped, and as much as it pained him to do so, Zuko stopped tapping and looked up at his father. 

“I’m sorry Father,” Zuko said, because apologizing and begging normally worked with him. 

“You should be more than capable of creating a flame at your age,” His father sneered. “Are you a nonbender? Do you bring dishonor to our family like that? Is that what you want? To embarrass us and our legacy?” 

“No!” Zuko protested, cheeks burning. “I am a firebender! I know I am. I’ll get it soon enough, I promise.” 

Zuko saw his father raise his hand, but he was unable to move as it came flying towards his face, connecting solidly to his cheek. The force sent him sprawling onto the floor, his palms stinging as he caught himself with them. His cheek was pounding and tears flooded his eyes, but he stayed down, hoping his father had enough and just left. 

“If you are unable to produce a flame by the end of the month,” His father said, his voice quiet. “I will do a lot worse than hit you.” 

Zuko stayed where he was as his father left the room, his footsteps echoing in the otherwise empty chamber. 

Only after he was sure the man was gone, he stood up, his hands wiping at the tears streaming down his face. He wanted to find him mom, to bury his face in her skirt and let her hold him tight. He also felt safe in her arms. 

But that would mean admitting he was still too weak to summon a flame. He needed to be better. How could he bring honor to his family if he couldn’t summon a flame? His father was right, until he learned how to firebend, he was an embarrassment to the family. 

He turned back towards his swords, picking them up and falling back into the first position. If he couldn’t firebend yet, he would work to be strong one way or another. 

______________________________________

Zuko likes the turtleducks. There was a pond out back full of them, it was Zuko’s favorite place to go in the afternoon. It’s quiet, the only sound the running water and the noise of the turtleducks swimming and playing with each other. Sometimes he can hear the rustle of the leaves around him, or the distant sounds of the other kids playing. But it’s all background noise, and it’s the only place in the palace that is truly quiet. 

So whenever he can he comes down to watch the turtleducks play. 

One of the mothers gave birth a couple of weeks ago, and Zuko likes to check up on her, bringing her extra seeds to help her recovery period. His mother had encouraged him too in the soft way she does whenever he rambles to her about the turtleducks. 

Azula sometimes came down with him, to complain over some of her teachers or the people she was forced to interact with. He’d normally ignore her, she never really wanted him to talk to her, just for him to listen. He could provide that. 

Azula didn’t like the turtleducks, which confused him more than anything. They have never done anything wrong, but she always sneered down at them, threw rocks at them and laughed when they fluttered around in pain and fear. Zuko had tried the same, because if Azula did it then it must be what was considered normal. But the guilt hit him hard after he did, and he nearly cried when all the turtleducks flinched away from him for the next week. 

Mother told him to never hurt animals, since they were the only truly innocent things in the world. Zuko could believe that. 

He reached out towards one of the younger turtleducks, who came closer, eyes narrowed slightly as it headbutted Zuko’s hand. He giggled and grabbed some more seeds, gently feeding them to the animal. All the other babies saw what they were doing and quickly swam over, eager for any sort of food. 

“Nephew!” A cheery voice calls out from behind him and Zuko whips around, already smiling as he saw his Uncle climbing the hill towards him. 

“Uncle!” He shouts, scrambling to his feet and launching himself at the older man, who laughed as he picked Zuko up and spun him. 

It had been over a month since Zuko had seen Uncle. He was off with the army once again, traveling the world and leading the Fire Nation’s best troops to glory. One day Zuko wanted to be like him, to have a command of people under him, to feel that power, to have that respect. 

“You’re getting big!” Uncle says, putting him down, but still holding him close. “Still as thin as a stick though, why don’t we go have a cup of tea and you can tell me about everything that has gone on in my absence? I trust you’ll give me a very reliable summary.” 

“Of course,” Zuko nodded, solemnly. “Can we do it by the pond? I still need to finish feeding the turtleducks.” 

Uncle chuckled, shaking his head and pulling away from Zuko. 

“Of course,” Uncle says, before his smile seems to slip off his face, his hand reaching up to cup at Zuko’s cheek, finger gently brushing over Zuko’s bruise. “What is this from?” 

Now Zuko had a few options here. There was nothing wrong with the bruise, with how he got it. His father had the power and authority to do whatever he thought necessary. The process was easy, you do good or you get punished however he saw fit. It helped Zuko learned, gave him the motivation to do better. There was nothing wrong with the bruise, but the shame was there written across his face. 

His father was within his right to hit Zuko, but that didn’t mean that Zuko wanted to share that. His shame was his own, his inability to produce a simple flame, the burden he placed on his family, it was all his own to handle and process. Zuko selfishly didn’t want those same feelings to crawl to his Uncle, he didn’t want his Uncle to see him as the disappointment he was. 

“I fell when doing my forms,” Zuko says, and because he knows that he was a horrible liar, he moved on quickly. “One of the turtleducks gave birth Uncle, you have to see the babies, I’m sure they’ll love you.” 

There was something in Uncle's eyes, a sadness that Zuko never wanted to see, but his uncle allowed him to lead him to the pond, and they spent the next few hours together, Zuko rambling on about anything he thought of and Uncle providing a steady supply of tea. It was a good day, even if the bruise pulled painfully every time he smiled.


	2. Love always wakes the dragon and suddenly flames everywhere

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter focuses mainly on Mai and Zuko, and you can read it as romantic, but I go off the idea that they were in an arranged marriage due to Mai's parent's political status. Which was never a part of the show but I like the idea and it fits for this chapter. So you have the option to read it as slash, pre-slash, or just platonic. I love Maiko lots, but they're also like 12 in this chapter soooo
> 
> But no! This is a bit of a happier chapter to be honest, hope you guys enjoy!

Being homeschooled, it was kind of hard to make friends. It wasn’t like there were a lot of children running around the palace, and if there was, they were all children of servants and therefore terrified of Zuko’s very existence. And if they weren’t, they were quickly put off by Zuko’s bluntness and total lack of any form of functional communication or friendship skills. 

So he didn’t have many friends growing up. Mai and Ty Lee were the exceptions. Sure, they were Azula’s friends first and foremost, but they seemed to like spending time with him too. 

Especially Mai. Ty Lee was nice, but she just talked so much. Sometimes it was hard to keep up with everything she said, and she was almost always in motion too, which could give him a headache. But Mai was easy to talk to, she was easy to hang around with. 

Mai told it how it was, she never bullshitted him. Everything she said was the truth, black and white. Not like Azula, who riddled her words with sarcasm and double meanings and lied every time she could. Not like Ty Lee who sugar-coated all of her words because she didn’t want to see Zuko get upset. He could depend on Mai to tell him everything and he would know it was the truth. 

They found out they were to be married when they were both twelve, and Zuko couldn’t bring himself to mind that much. If he was going to be married to anyone, it might as well be Mai. She was the closest thing he had to a best friend, and although romance was nowhere close to being the forefront of his mind at this time, he could see it maybe turning to that eventually. 

They weren’t perfect, of course they weren’t. Mai’s tendency to be indifferent to everything irritated him, especially when it got difficult to tell if she cared or not. She was hard to read, and he hated not knowing what people were thinking, and Mai was good enough at concealing things that if she didn’t want him to know something, he wouldn’t. These frustrations normally caused him to lash out at her, but they always worked it out. Or they ignored the problem and went right back to being friends and pretending their issues never happened. Either way it worked. 

And she was really good with her knives. She loved them as much as he loved his swords, and it was interesting to watch her work with them. She never judged him or thought less of him because he liked sword fighting as well as bending.

The good thing about being technically engaged to her was that it meant he was required to spend time with her outside of whenever she was with Azula. Zuko loved his sister as much as he could, but she was confusing and mean and sometimes it was nice to just have Mai around. He helped curb some of her boredom as well, so it worked both ways. 

They walked in silence through the palace halls. Zuko didn’t have training or classes for the rest of the day, and Azula was in her room brooding. Ty Lee was off doing whatever she did for fun, and Mai was by his side. They had no need to talk, the silence between them comfortable as they roamed through the halls. 

In around a few hours, there was a banquet they were both expected to be in attendance. His father was throwing it in honor of a major defeat of a large area of the Earth Kingdom. Zuko was to have a performance to show off his fire bending, and he would be nervous if he hadn’t been practicing this routine for almost a month now. Azula’s performance was better. Bigger, showier, more fitting for a member of the royal family, and Zuko tried not to be disappointed about it. 

There wasn’t really any time to be. He had been training non-stop for the past couple of months, his father pushing him harder and harder the older he got. His bending was still miles away from Azula’s and both Azula and his father reminded him of it every time he got. Mai never mocked him for his abilities. 

“We should be heading back to your room for dressing soon,” Mai said, her voice loud in the otherwise silent halls. The servants and guards would be near, but never in sight. 

Zuko only nodded, and they changed their direction until they were walking back towards his room. They had her ceremonial outfit sent there earlier that day. Tonight was also the official declaration of their engagement, so they were to get dressed and ready together, arrive together, and leave together. Mai would stay the night in his chambers, despite both of them hating the idea. They were _twelve_ for gods sake. 

It was all for appearance either way, it was what was expected of them, what they were supposed to do. It was tradition, and tradition was what mattered, no matter how young they were. Zuko may be slightly panicked at the idea of Mai staying in the same room as him, she was a very attractive girl, but he knew there was nothing to worry about. They were friends before they were fiancés. 

They arrived at his room, and immediately four servants stepped forwards and bowed to them. They approached Mai first, and they exchanged soft words as they lead her towards the bathroom to get changed. Two stayed behind for him, leading him towards the bed where his garments were laid out. They never touched him, last time they tried to he had yelled and raged until they got the hint and let him do it himself. He barely knew these people, the idea of them touching him made his skin crawl and sting. 

He quickly stripped out of his casual clothes and pulled on the sharp black pants, embroidered with gold and red thread. They were very nice, and the fabric was soft against his skin, the threads luckily not irritating the skin. He took a moment to run his hands down them, admiring the make and style. 

“You take forever,” Mai said from behind him and he startled, turning around to face her as she walked out of the bathroom, her clothes already on. All the makeup was laid out on his desk, so he figured that was the next step. 

He took a minute to look at her. It was very different from what he was used to. Her outfit was clearly designed to be the opposite of his own. The bright red fabric was the same color as the threads on his pants, with her own black and gold accents highlighting the style and cut of the outfit. It was very unlike her everyday outfit. 

“You look weird,” He tells her, because she does. She doesn’t look like Mai, the girl he had grown up with. She had never looked this regal. It didn’t fit the image he had of her. 

Her lips twitched, but she only sighed, looking down at the outfit herself. 

“Do you mean I look weird in a bad way? Or weird in a different way?” She asks, her voice betraying no amount of frustration or anger. He’s pretty sure she’s not concealing any behind her face, so he tips his head to the side and debates her question. 

She looks nice. It isn’t what he’s used to, and a part of his brain kept screaming wrong, but she didn’t look _bad_. She looked pretty, not that she wasn’t always pretty. It just wasn’t what he was used to. 

“Different,” He finally decided on, and she nodded, looking a bit relieved. 

“Are you going to put your shirt on?” She asks, and he blinks, remembering that yeah, he needed to get dressed. He was pulling the robe over his shoulders when Mai spoke again. “Where did you get that scar from?” 

Zuko blinks, turning to look at her again. She was looking at him, and he would feel a bit self-conscious since he was half-naked, but this was Mai after all. 

“Which one?” He asks, because he had quite a few littering his body. She walks forwards, her finger pointing towards the burn mark on his arm. 

He looks down, remembering his last training session. He messed up on the last move in his routine, he didn’t manage to land the jump right, stumbling slightly and causing some fire to fly out from both of his hands as he threw them out to stop his fall. 

His teacher had retaliated but burning three of his fingers into the arm Zuko had failed to keep in position. The result was angry raised burns on his arm, the red skin still patchy and raw. Mai was looking at it softly, softer than anyone had ever look at any one of his scars. 

She had never understood his training. She had often criticized how he threw himself into it, how he talked about himself and his bending. She didn’t understand why he had to get it right, why he would do anything to ensure that his bending was as strong as it could get. She wouldn’t understand why he needed this type of punishment in order to be the best he could be. 

“Cooking burn,” He blurted out, and she looked up at him, eyebrows raising. “I was really hungry one night and thought it wasn’t that hard to warm up some of the food in the kitchen. I burned myself on a pan. It’s harder than it looks but I really was craving some of the duck we had the night before and it was 3am so I really didn’t want to bother any of the staff because they would just send me back to bed. So I did it myself because if they can do it I can too right? And I did, but the intensity of the heat just surprised me at first and I ended up with the burn.” 

She was looking at him with her practiced and perfected You-are-an-idiot look, but he wasn’t sure if it was because she bought the story or he really was horrible at lying. 

“Don’t tell anyone,” He blurted out. “If my father finds out he’ll kill me.” 

It was the truth, if the Fire Lord was told that Zuko was in the kitchen attempting to cook in the middle of the night Zuko’s body would never be found. But if he knew about the scar and the true story behind it, well he would probably praise the teacher. 

He couldn’t help be bitter about that, a voice in the back of his head telling him that fathers weren’t supposed to be happy when you were hurt, that they were supposed to protect you. A larger voice that sounded like Azula reminded him that he was weak and by doing this Father was making sure he was stronger. He ignored them both.

Mai’s face softened, and although she didn’t smile at him it was the closest he was going to get. 

“Put on your shirt,” She gently ordered, and Zuko was quick to obey, glad to have the subject changed. He pulled the robe over his shoulders and tied the bright red sash around his waist. Mai was putting a similar black one around her own. 

The servants had moved towards them again, Zuko had honestly forgotten they were there. He knew they wouldn’t say anything about Mai and his conversation, it wasn’t their place to. Mai was led back towards the bathroom, the makeup brought with her. His servant started fussing with his hair, careful to telegraph her movements and make sure she didn’t touch him that much. He appreciated it, so he sent her a soft smile that she hesitantly returned. 

Half an hour later Mai and him were all ready for the banquet. The servants bowed to the two of them and left the room, giving them a couple of minutes alone. 

“You ready to go Crown Prince?” She asked, a teasing note to her voice. He grinned back at her, despite the nerves that decided to resurface. His fingers started tapping each other, moving without his permission. 

Mai frowned slightly, reaching out and gently grabbing his hands, stopping his frantic movements. 

“Don’t do that,” She ordered softly, her thumb absently drawing circles onto his skin. “You know you can’t do that.” 

“I know,” He said over the lump in his throat. He looked away from her, down to their joined hands. Her hands were really soft. He found he didn’t mind her touching him. She was gentle, but he could feel the calluses that came from her handling her knives. He knew that she wouldn’t hurt him, at least not intentionally, no matter how many times he hurt her. 

“You better keep that engagement band showing,” Mai said absently, her fingers reaching forwards to adjust the band over his neck. She wore a similar one on her wrist. “I don’t want any commoners thinking they have a chance at being future Fire Lady.”

“They don’t have a chance,” He stated bluntly. “It's not my decision.” 

Mai rolled her eyes again, and distantly Zuko could hear his mother telling him that was a rude thing to say. But Mai was never offended when he was blunt like that, she almost always understood what he was trying to say. 

“I would choose you if it was,” He adds as an afterthought. She looks up to him with an unreadable look. 

“You would?” She asks, her words suspiciously light. 

“I would choose you,” He said, nodding solemnly. “You’re my best friend.” 

That earned him a smile. A small one, barely even the tiniest tip of her lips upwards, but a smile either way. He smiled back at her, pride blossoming through his chest. It was rare to see her smile. 

“Come on,” She said, and he was even happier to hear affection in her words. “Or else we’ll be late.”

Her arm loops through his, and despite his nerves over his soon to be performance and engagement announcement, he couldn’t help but feel at ease. Maybe this whole Crown Prince stuff wouldn’t be as hard with Mai by his side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! This was a lot fluffier than I expected it to be but I like it either way.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed and thank you for reading!! All chapter titles come from Richard Siken poems


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